Israfel's Digitalis
by baited with hypotheses
Summary: Post Host-Club. Kaiya isn't fighting a war; she's the whole Armageddon. But the monsters under her bed are out to get her and it's all bloodshot eyes and chapped lips and too much coffee in the beginning of the end. OC/Kyouya, Kyouya/Haruhi. COMPLETE.
1. i

**Israfel's Digitalis**

**Ouran Koukou ; not mine. **

This is the edited and new version of Elanguescence's _Abyssus Abyssum Invocat_.

**Summary**: Post Host-Club. Kaiya is your stereotypical I-hate-everyone workaholic law student. She isn't fighting a war; she's the whole Armageddon. But the monsters under her bed are out to get her and it's all bloodshot eyes and chapped lips and too much coffee in the beginning of the end. OC/Kyouya, Kyouya/Haruhi.

**. . .**

**i.**

Vintage black-and-white photographs lined the hallways, attempting to give character to an otherwise boring office. The walls were painted columbine white; the furniture tailor-cut and made with the finest black velvet. Plasma screen TVs and an open bar were the center of the Visitor's room and while the wealthy clientele bore over which (rich and successful) lawyer to choose for their (petty) cases, maids and butlers clad in the purest white attended to their every whim, no matter how stupid it was. The reception area was just as luxurious, with imported cherrywood tables and Macbooks and free Starbucks lattes.

It was a beautiful building run by the equally beautiful rich that catered to even _more_ beautiful rich nymphs and their quixotic, love-sick arm-candy.

And how it made her want to puke all that cups coffee she had downed in the past few hours.

Kaiya Nakamura was not an idiot, but stepping into the Ootori & Company Law Offices was a very moronic move, especially for a sane, level-headed woman like she was. How the Ootoris managed to get into law was beyond her, and how she even _had_ the courage to actually ride a taxi to this place was something she didn't want to think about.

She was twenty-one. She was fresh out of college. And she needed a job that would help her parents pay for the (extremely) expensive law school she was attending.

The road to hell was paved with good intentions. She had, after all, no time to ponder at the 'abandon all hope' sign she saw shining in neon in her labyrinthine mind.

**. . .**

"And…_you _are?" The receptionist was _foreign_, Kaiya noted, probably hired to talk to the English-speaking clients who frequented the place. The blonde struggled with her garbled Japanese, wanting the conversation with the girl who had hair the color of burnt cigarette ashes to end as quickly as possible.

"Nakamura Kaiya. I'm here for an interview with Mr. Ootori." The anxiety was clearly heard in her tone, and Kaiya suddenly wished she hadn't spent all her allowance on _coffee_ that morning.

"Kaiya...Hm…Please wait a moment," the receptionist pronounced her name as 'Kaye-ah.' She then started babbling in English into her microphone.

Kaiya wasn't a very patient person, and too quickly realized that the foreign girl didn't quite care about her appointment. But – out of politeness or out of despair, she would never know – she decided to sit on one of the black sofas, watch the TV screen in front of her and wait a little bit longer.

The TV played some sort of song-jingle in a mixture English and Japanese. It was a commercial, showing Yoshio Ootori and his three sons. He was telling his viewers that they got into the law business to connect the three main types of business – law, medicine and stocks. Or something like that, anyway. Kaiya wasn't really listening.

She just knew that she couldn't lie to herself; she was _nervous_.

Then the foreign girl called out to her, and told her to take the elevator to the thirty-fifth floor and wait for further instructions. From the receptionist's tone, Kaiya could sense that little miss Chanel wasn't quite ecstatic to send a Japanese face up the lift.

But her apathy won against her anger, so Kaiya Nakamura entered the glass elevator in a false sense of peace. The angel Raphael had finally blew the horn and now it was time for the Apocalypse.

**. . .**

"He is positively guilty. We have sufficient evidence to have our verdict, your Honor." An icy, steel-edged voice shattered the peace that was slowly enveloping her in a hazy cocoon, "No, there are no other suspects…Yes, sir. No, sir. Hai. Yes, yes, yes. Hai."

It was a Japanese voice; a male Japanese voice. Kaiya wondered if he had been treated rudely by the foreign secretary, too. When she had stepped out of the elevator, she could already hear the cold voice from far away. It made her shudder in all her nervousness.

The hallway was quite long; its pale walls were lined with all sorts of memorabilia and old vintage pictures. She didn't glance at them; for her gaze was locked at the silver door so close to her. She was about to touch the crystalline knob when the man with the gelid voice stopped her.

"Father is in a meeting," he told her curtly, light reflecting onto his glasses, "If you have an appointment with him, please come back tomorrow."

Just her luck. Tomorrow, Kaiya had to pass her (still unfinished) report about a par theid in Africa. She had spent most of the week practicing for the job interview and working (yet another job) in Devereux Academy of Law's library, sorting files and such.

She groaned silently, hoping for some sort of miracle to happen. She _needed_ this job. She hadn't passed for a full scholarship, and therefore still needed to pay a third of the tuition.

"Excuse me," the cold-eyed man told her, before she could run back to the elevator, "Are you, by any chance, either Fujioka Haruhi-san or Nakamura Kaiya-san?"

"…Nakamura Kaiya," she replied cautiously. The bespectacled man was one of Yoshio's sons, she recalled from her memory of the commercial. The youngest one…_Kyouya_, was it?

He then excused himself to call someone on his phone, "Alexa, you said nobody was coming!" He said – in English; his words full of anger, "Father would not be pleased. She is, in fact, Kaiya and not Kaye!"

"Forgive me," He turned to Kaiya, his dark grey eyes boring into her abyssal ones, "But the receptionist does not understand our native language quite clearly, Nakamura-san."

"It's quite al—"

He cut her off before she could utter another word, "I'm afraid father is running late today. The other person he is also supposed to be interviewing is running late for her appointment as well," he mentioned about the other girl using words that were vaguely laced with some foreign emotion.

"You are free to wait in the Visitor's Lobby, if you wish." Kyouya – she was _sure_ of his name now – told her, cueing the girl to get the hell out of the thirty-fifth floor and wait somewhere else.

She nodded quickly before dashing towards the elevator.

**. . .**

"How did the interview go?" The text message from her mother read. Kaiya was far too tired to reply, and all she wanted to do was to go home and sleep. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she placed her phone inside her bag.

_The interview went well_, if Kaiya wanted to lie herself. She was pretty sure that Yoshio Ootori hated her. They seemed to have different views on everything – from innocent and guilty to chocolate versus vanilla. And his son wasn't much help, either. In fact, he made matters worse with his habit of getting into other people's business.

_Stupid job._

The taxi ride to her apartment she was renting was noisy and unpleasant; not the best way to get home after an awful job interview. The driver wouldn't stop blabbing about his family problems until they reached her poor excuse of a home. Her parents had moved back to their hometown, Kyoto, leaving their twenty-one-year-old daughter in vibrant, lively Tokyo.

Kaiya loved the city. Kaiya hated the city. Kaiya hated being a law student. Kaiya loved being a law student.

_Urgh._

Upon unlocking her very unfurnished apartment, she immediately slumped ungracefully into the lay-z-boy she managed to purchase cheaply in one of her neighbor's garage sales. Her rent was a week due and she still had some students fees left unpaid from last semester, but being the stubborn girl she was, Kaiya Nakamura was too proud to actually use the money her parents had given her over the weekend.

Was she independent or just pretty stupid?

Probably both, but she wouldn't go admitting that to any person she would encounter in life.


	2. ii

**ii.**

"You have reached Ootori And Company, please leave your message after the beep. Sie haben Ootori erreicht und Company, lassen bitte eine Mitteilung nach dem Signalton. Vous avez atteint Ootori et Company, laissent svp un message après le signal sonore—"

They had never called her back. So she put the phone down – quite forcefully. She glanced at the ceiling, wishing for a shooting star to crash into her humble apartment and to grant this particular wish. All the _other_ law firms weren't looking for paralegal assistants (or, at least that's what they said to _her_) and only the Ootori Company were offering a job.

_A_ job. Just one lucky lawyer-wannabe. Just one freaking lawyer-wannabe that Yoshio Ootori thought worthy enough to work under his godliness.

And it obviously wasn't her.

It was the Apocalypse, and she'd been their plague.

_So much for credentials in law school. So much for a future job. So much for a future _at all_. So much for all my hopes and dreams and—_

Kaiya Nakamura felt sour. No, that was an _understatement_. She felt like cutting off people's heads and throwing their brains at poor passersby. No,_ that_ was an understatement, as well.

_They probably chose her over me. Again._

And it was because Kaiya Nakamura never forgave. She never forgot. All her memories flickered through her mind every day; and like a knife, it plunged deeper and deeper into her skin.

She wasn't about to let go of the past. No, running from it was impossible. It was time to face the painful truth and embrace fate.

Such stupid nonsense.

**. . .**

_She felt inferior. She certainly didn't belong to a prestigious place like Ouran Academy. She was just the little weirdo from Kyoto who enjoyed Japanese mythology and cultural festivals. And books. She liked reading._

_They didn't think she was important (or rich, or beautiful) enough to be in Ouran. She wasn't pretty, nor was she exceptional in anything she did (of course, they were lying to themselves— the rich idiots). But she was a commoner – but not talented enough to be granted a scholarship – and therefore she had to be noticed._

…_Right?_

_No one gave her even a second glance. No one, though, except Haruhi. _

_It just had to be her. The commoner everyone fell for. The sweet, innocent, naïve Haruhi who could make you do anything._

_The thought of it sickened her._

_Haruhi would always be prettier and more popular. And more talented. And did she mention prettier? It just sickened Kaiya to be someone in the background, when she longed to be more than a face in the crowd of monochromatic bubbleheads._

_And then there was him. He didn't even know her, but he knew Haruhi so well._

_Why wasn't she surprised?_

_Nobody even looked inside people's hearts anymore. But, in this day and age, who even had hearts?_

_Certainly not Kaiya. Never Kaiya._

_But Haruhi had one. It was always Haruhi._

_Whoopee do da._

**. . .**

To say Kaiya Nakamura was jealous was both an exaggeration and an understatement. She had no more doubts that they gave the job opening to Haruhi. Who wouldn't? She was prettier, smarter, had more values and –

'_Here I go again_.' She managed to stop before things got worse. Before she became (even more) desperate.

But maybe she already was. Kaiya lied to herself as often as she told herself the truth.

And it took a lot of lies to coax herself to actually go outside. She went straight home after school, not even bothering to attend some stupid Club's opening party. For some odd reason, she was given an invite. But that was probably because of Haruhi. No one could say 'no' to her.

God, she was jealous.

**. . .**

It was warm outside; the kind of weather people went out to have picnics for. But there were no chicken sandwiches and tea and scones in her picnic. Kaiya didn't even _have_ a picnic. She had her plush chair in Starbucks and her judgment was clouded by too much coffee and envious thoughts. Everything was fine.

Espresso always made things better. Made the green monster inside her number, calmer.

And it made her feel good about the life she had chosen here in Tokyo. (_'Tokyo has much better coffee than Kyoto,_' she thought.)

Kaiya didn't consume alcohol, but coffee probably gave her the same effects. And, hey, Starbucks was way cheaper than Chardonnay. It was a ritual for her to get a cup of Joe every day (every _five_ minutes, to be more accurate) to brighten up things. And, she realized, as the days blazed on by, she had been consuming more and more coffee.

She was going to get broke soon.

Kaiya shook the thoughts away as she took another gulp from the scalding cup of too-strong espresso. That numbed the pain, all the jealousy; her rage.

"You're going to die one day, because of all the coffee you've been drinking." She looked up from her cup just to see the smirking face of Kyouya Ootori.

"Joy."

"I reckon you weren't chosen by father because of your _sunny _personality, Nakamura." His smug tone made his smirk pull up the corners of his mouth more.

"That's me, the ray of sunshine." She replied, too caffeinated to think of a proper retort, "What are you doing in a place where commoners purchase coffee? You have rich people coffee makers, don't you?"

"I'm meeting a client. He's just running late. I don't feel quite suited to the medical life," He had his own cup of coffee in his hand. Kaiya wondered if he actually ordered for himself.

"Joy."

"Aren't you eloquent?" He asked, the smirk replaced by a slightly amused anti-smile smile. It was the type of smile he used when he catered the customers once upon a time in Ouran Academy.

"Can't you leave the poor manically depressed law student alone?" Kaiya snapped as she gripped her coffee cup tighter. She didn't want to deal with anyone right now. _Especially_ the son of the person who just destroyed her petty dreams.

_You didn't even know _me_ until yesterday while I've known _you _for almo—_

No. More. Self-pity. Kaiya was surely beyond that. She had breezed through college without people noticing her and she grew up fine. Now she was in Law school and people didn't take notice of her, again. Everything was all good. Heck, she was used to it.

_No more self-pity…!_

He was still smirking at her when Kaiya realized she'd been silent for almost fifteen minutes.

"…What kind of client's late for fifteen minutes?" She asked; half-amused, half incredibly annoyed.

"_His_ kind." Kyouya said, standing up from the armchair across Kaiya's. ('_When did he sit down?_') He then gestured to a blonde-haired man entering the café.

Suou Tamaki. That irritating bimbo from high school.

'_Why couldn't he just go back to France?_'

Fate hated Kaiya's guts. Kaiya hated her guts, too.


	3. iii

**iii.**

"Congratulations, Haru-chaaaaan~!"

She was in a _party_. A party in _Circle IX_, one of the most exclusive clubs in Tokyo. _She_ was in a party pretending to celebrate Haruhi's new job. To celebrate the job she _didn't get_. She was in a _stupid_ party surrounded by _stupid _people from high school and college and even freaking law school.

Kaiya Nakamura was a masochist.

While everyone was dancing their puny brains off, Kaiya just sat at the open bar, drinking _Coke_. She felt too high on coffee when she actually decided to show up to her party after she exited Starbucks certainly not in style. Kyouya and Tamaki were already talking about cases and stuff, so Kaiya decided it was her cue to leave.

She wished she had stayed in Starbucks.

Haruhi wasn't much of a clubber, but the rental fees and the open bar were courtesy of her new BFFs, the Hitachiin twins. Haruhi protested and protested and the twins insisted and insisted and _finally_, she gave in. The brown-haired girl wasn't quite happy to see all of the Host Club (excluding Tamaki and Kyouya) but she _was_ happy because she got the job.

Now, Kaiya knew very well who were the Hosts, but she had tried (and _almost_ succeeded) to erase them from her memory. She only wanted jealous rage directed to Fujioka Haruhi to remain.

Revenge was a funny thing. _Attempting_ to have revenge was just plain idiocy. Kaiya wondered which type of revenge applied to her.

"Kaiya-san! Dance with us!" At least Haruhi was happy. Perhaps it was true, the things people said, that the wicked never get rest. Kaiya cracked a weak smile at her and acted as if she got wasted.

"Oh, come on, Kaiya-chan, getting drunk is supposed to be for the _after-party_!" She doubted if the twins actually _knew_ her, but Hikaru and Kaoru dragged Kaiya to the dance floor, anyway.

"Hikaru, Kaoru…Just let the girl be. She isn't a fan of parties," Slightly-accented Japanese cut through the blaring rock music. Its owner sat comfortably on one of the bar stools in the bar closer to the dance floor.

"You're…_Hideki_, right?" One of the twins asked as he held one of Haruhi's hands. The other raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"That's me." A small smile tugged at his lips. Hideki Tsubasa, born to a British mum and a half-Japanese dad and raised in Britain, was the new god in Devereux Academy of Law. He was actually one of the few people who actually took notice of the ash brown-haired girl with depthless eyes. And because of him – _and_ Haruhi – teachers managed to take note of Nakamura Kaiya. Even for just one semester.

"Nakamura-san, what _are_ you drinking?" His gaze fell on the seemingly drunk paralegal reject, who was sipping dark liquid in a glass cup. It was simply Coca-Cola, but Kaiya thought such information wasn't required.

"Blood," she told him cynically, with a roll of her eyes. He never quite knew what color they were, but her eyes were dark. Literally _and_ figuratively.

"Oooh. _Vampire_." He quirked as he turned around to get himself a drink.

"Hey, Kaiya-san…Did you get a job, yet?" The twins had already left to dance with some Frenchwoman, so Haruhi and Kaiya were left with Tsubasa on the dance floor.

"If you count working at the library a job…" Kaiya muttered, averting her gaze to the shimmering star-like ground.

"I'm really sorry for taking the internship job from you," It was extremely hard to hate Haruhi, especially when she was this nice.

"It's fine. I don't think I could've lasted a _week_ working there," Kaiya told her truthfully, thinking of nosy Kyouya and all his idiotic smirks.

"Forgive sticking my nose in your business, but a week working _where_, exactly?" Tsubasa joined their poor excuse for a light-hearted conversation. He was sipping Vodka through one of those little straws – at least, that's what Kaiya thought it was.

"The new Ootori law firm," Kaiya told him, trying to be as neutral as possible. She then took a big gulp from her glass of coke and gave the bartender a small – but still socially acceptable – tip.

Tsubasa made a small sound that could only be classified as a sound of _disgust_, but he instantly stopped himself, "I say once you graduate law school, you should join my older sister's law firm, Shiroyuki and Co. She's not as…_discriminating_. I told her much about you, and I think she likes you."

'_Why is he being so blunt? Haruhi-san's just there…_'

"Of course, Fujioka-san, the Ootoris are a great family, too..." He quickly redeemed himself, "I met the youngest son once in a law convention. He seemed a little…_uptight,_ but he's good at business."

At the mention of Kyouya, both Haruhi and Kaiya paled, but not much could be seen since the club was submerged in darkness. Circle IX, the ninth circle of hell.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I didn't realize that I was walking on a minefield," Tsubasa said, chuckling nervously, "Fujioka-san, is he your boyfriend or something like that?"

"…No. He's a friend or something like that."

'_Something like that…_'

**. . .**

"Kyouya, why the sudden interest in law?" Father had asked him about two years ago, when he first brought up the topic. He lied, saying that it would be great if the Ootori Zaibatsu could tie all three main types of business. But sad truth be told, he just wanted to be nearer a certain oblivious chocolate-eyed would-be lawyer.

Father had called her _interesting_, anyway.

Saying that he _loved_ her was an exaggeration. It was more of…lust and longing. She was _interesting_, indeed, and she would bring in bags of money once she became a famous lawyer.

Fujioka Haruhi was a mystery; a hard riddle, a puzzle. He couldn't see through her huge brown eyes and her kindness. He wanted to see beyond her, and solve the mystery once and for all.

_Father_ had called her interesting, anyway.


	4. iv

**iv.**

_She_ was drunk.

With happiness or with drink, it didn't matter anymore. Fujioka Haruhi felt the best she could have felt in many years. She was one step closer to be able to reach for her mom's – and her own – dream. Everyone had been so happy about it, too. Even Kaiya smiled. She felt proud and contented and so ecstatic she even hugged her father _voluntarily_ when she got home that night.

_She_ was torn up.

Kaiya went home miserable and feeling the worst she felt in a long time. It was late, tomorrow was a Saturday and she still had to work at the Academy's public library. It was a tiring job filled with cranky old ladies looking for all the copies of _Pride & Prejudice_ and children who wanted to read the latest manga but Kaiya didn't have any more options.

So she just complained often.

Just to herself. Never to anyone else. She'd talk to the ceilings, feeling sanity bid farewell and shout all her emotions. She had always wondered what Haruhi had and what she didn't. She could be nice if that's what the hoi polloi wanted her to be. She was smart and (sort of) talented and she looked like a normal human.

But maybe it was being Nakamura Kaiya.

Haruhi wasn't Nakamura Kaiya. She was Fujioka Haruhi and Kaiya realized that made all the difference in the world.

**. . .**

"Ne, ne, Onee-chan, do you have the latest volume of _Draegan & Elevators_?" "Nee-san, do you have volume four of _Ninja Monkey_?" "When will the newest volume of _Briar and Rose_ come out?"

Whoever thought that the Devereux Library should be open to the public was an evil sadist who certainly wanted to ash-haired girl dead. Children from all walks of life have been practically living in the almost-gothic library reading manga and pestering Kaiya about books that the _LAW_ library doesn't have.

"Kids, this is a law library. Filled with books…for _law_." She told them, trying to be as polite as and nice as possible so that her head wouldn't get chopped off by their too-rich mothers.

The children all looked at her with large eyes glazed with unshed tears. Kaiya hoped they wouldn't cry; she wouldn't know what to do.

"Please, onee-chan!" One chubby little boy's voice cracked just as the tears began falling, "I need _D&E_ to live…."

"Yes, nee-san! I don't even know if the ninja monkeys survived the plane crash…" Another little boy said; his face completely in puppy dog pout mode.

"I promised my older sister I'd borrow _Briar and Rose_ for her…" A slightly older boy muttered nonchalantly.

"Kids, onee-chan hasn't been feeling well these past few days…And like she said, this is a _law_ library. Why don't you go to the arcade and battle monsters instead of badgering onee-chan?" Kaiya was getting a little bit tired of being _rescued_ by Hideki Tsubasa. He was walking towards the children, charming them all as he held a myriad of textbooks effortlessly.

"Hai, nii-chan!" The children giggled, before exiting the library.

"Children seem to hate me," Kaiya mumbled, resting her head atop the laminated wood table.

"Well, you aren't exactly _charming_, you know…" Tsubasa teased goodheartedly, "And remember the time that old lady hit you with her purse?"

Kaiya's head whipped up; her face reddening, "….You _saw_ that?"

"Maybe a little bird told me…" He chuckled and before Kaiya could curse at him, he began placing the books on the counter, "Here, I'm taking these."

**. . .**

"…And so, is the defendant innocent or guilty?" Hands shot up in the air, slicing through the molecules and bending time and space. Kaiya was barely listening to the professor. She was too drained from her lunch shift at the library. Children could be so annoying…

"_Welcome to the Host Club!" She'd never been in one, but her new _friend_ Haruhi had forced her into it. She didn't know Haruhi's true gender, but she had some doubts. It was only a matter of time before he came out of the closet. The rose petals were prickling her skin and the scent of chocolate and perfume choked her. _

_It wasn't the first time she had seen _him_, but he looked so different when he was hosting. He seemed so relaxed and stressed and willing and so forced all at the same time._

"Nakamura."

"NAKAMURA!"

"…Y-Yes, sir?" When had she fallen asleep!?

"Your view on the innocence of the client. Is he innocent or guilty?"

"Guilty. Atroquinine is a poison that takes at least fifteen minutes to kill someone. His testimony has a lot of holes," Kaiya answered, careful to not make any illogical fallacies and mistakes.

"Hm. Interesting point, Nakamura-san." The sensei nodded at her approvingly, and Kaiya let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Ah, and Nakamura-san," The teacher continued, "You have some potential. Would you care to join myself, together third year Hideki-san and Fujioka-san to a special forum? It will be hosted by the Ootori family."

"…I'd be…uh, delighted, Sensei." The words were willing yet forced. '_Just like _him,' a little voice in her head told her. Kaiya refused to listen to the voice, and simply focused all her attention to the blackboard.

"Great. Go to the faculty room after school to get your waiver," And with that, he turned his back and began scribbling poorly-written characters on the board.

**. . .**

_I should be happy...It might be my big, lawyer-sized break. I should be grateful I have enough talent. I should be contented…_

_But I'm not._

_I don't think I'll ever be…if the green, envious monster inside me still lives. _

_But I don't have the strength to kill it myself._

_I'm far too weak._

_Fujioka was never weak._

_And that's why we're too different._


	5. v

**v.**

The waiver felt comforting and smooth and soft and warm in her iced coffee- cold hands. Kaiya stared at it, letting all the words soak in her mind. '_Dear Devereux Academy of Law student, Nakamura Kaiya, you are invited to the first Ootori Law Forum that would be held at the Ootori mansion….._' She felt a little bit better after a few cups of the school's café's special brew. It was specially ground coffee with a hint of cinnamon and mint and it was _good_. Now, she could read the waiver without having to rip some other piece of paper or suppress the urge to attack the Sensei or scream '_bloody murder_' and amputate somebody's arm. Haruhi's, preferably.

She knew she was a pathetic excuse for a civilized human being. It was all just a matter of time before her sanity would evaporate in thin air. That is, if it didn't already happen…

"Would you please stop caressing the piece of paper? It's disgusting me." She looked up from the waiver to see bright viridian eyes, almost turquoise under the harsh fluorescent lighting.

"…Right. What are you _doing_ here, Hideki-senpai?" _And I wasn't caressing the piece of paper_.

"Did you _forget_? You, me, Fujioka-san and Ieda-sensei have to plan who's asking who in the forum…You totally ditched us when we were ordering, going into your little space bubble…" His tone was playful, but his words were laced with concern and worry.

"…I did, actually." She suddenly felt guilty for drinking all those cups of coffee. She hated the feeling of letting a friend down.

"Well, no worries. You're interviewing the sister…Fuyuumi, I think, is her name." He told Kaiya as he patted her back, "I must be going, Nakamura-san. See you at the forum tomorrow."

**. . .**

Ouran Academy looked like a _slum_ compared to the Ootori mansion. The building was modern, with glass windows and sleek metallic doors and silvery paint that seemed to _shimmer_ under the surrounding lamplights. Beautiful was too mundane a word to describe the mansion. It was ethereal, like something that came out in one of the fantasy novels Kaiya used to read as an eager child of eleven.

"Welcome, Ieda-san!" The loudness of the voice made Kaiya flinch. It was Mr. Ootori, the very same person who had interviewed her and _hated_ her the first moment he laid eyes on the deep-yet-depthless-eyed girl with the ash hair, "I see these are your chosen students…"

Yoshio Ootori then saw Haruhi, and a faint smile tugged at his lips, "Fujioka-san, I am delighted to have you with us tonight."

Haruhi beamed, making her pretty features look princess-like in the light of the moon. Like the mansion, beautiful was too mundane a word.

"Please, please come in!"He managed to glare at Kaiya as he ushered the teacher plus the three students inside their home "We're still having hors d' oeuvres and cocktails. Help yourselves."

"Well, kids…I'm off to chit-chat with Yoshio, see you later," Ieda-sensei nodded at them as he bade goodbye. He then walked around the main room, talking to other famous lawyers as he continued looking for his friend.

"This place is—"

"…wow," Haruhi had cut off Kaiya. The brown-haired girl was awed at the impressive designing of the house. Kaiya was less than surprised to see that the interior of the mansion was even prettier than the exterior, '_Rich people and their rich homes_.'

"…I was going to say something along the lines of '_expensive_' but I guess 'wow' works, too," Kaiya took an appetizer with a French-sounding name she couldn't quite understand, "The food looks expensive, too."

But Haruhi wasn't listening to her anymore and Kaiya didn't think Haruhi was even listening to her the _first _time she spoke. The scholarship-grantee was already munching on a Japanese delicacy Kaiya recalled vaguely as something like 'Ootoro' when Kaiya started making her unnecessary comments. Tsubasa was gone with the wind, talking to other (more experienced) law students about cases and current events.

"Some things just don't change," Kyouya was suddenly (_somehow_) beside the bitter reject, muttering words to the air and being amused by himself, "Nakamura-san, it is a pleasure seeing you again."

'_Touché_,' Kaiya thought as the caterpillars that were once sucking her stomach dry skipped the whole chrysalis stage altogether and directly evolved into fluttery butterflies. Kyouya still managed to cast his spell on her, even if she knew he was doing all the spell-casting subconsciously. '_Once a host, always a host._'

"Your Pissaladière will get cold if you don't eat it." He told her, though his cold grey eyes were still locked onto the brown-haired girl eating fatty tuna. He wasn't in _love_, he assured himself, Haruhi was just _amusing_.

"My…_what_?" When he didn't reply, she glanced at the tart-thing in on the small plate she was holding. Kaiya flushed, feeling idiotic. How she managed to make a fool out of herself when she was near this man was beyond her.

She then took a bite of the square tart, relishing its herby onion flavor. It tasted like tens of thousands of yen, but like any other rich people's food, it was _amazing_.

Maybe once she had enough money, she could get addicted to something else _other_ than coffee.

"I'm quite glad you're feeling better since the last time I saw you," It wasn't like he _cared_. Ootori Kyouya was simply being civil and polite. He was proud in his ability to read all types of people and was just using his knowledge of young women to his – and probably Kaiya's – advantage. Nothing more, nothing less.

"…Right," She replied, as she carefully trod on black ice. The Kyouya she knew (and fell for, but she wouldn't go admitting that to him) from high school wasn't like this. Not to the fifteen-year-old Kaiya, anyway. The Kyouya from high school was cold and treacherous, except to his BFFL Suou Tamaki and to girls who had enough money. And since Kaiya didn't have money, _ants _had better treatment from Kyouya than she did.

The bespectacled man-snake (or was it snake-man?)then opened his lips as if to say something, but his father started announcing that the forum would start in a few minutes. Kyouya scurried away like a rat to the stage, where he put on that fake smile together with his three other siblings.

**. . .**

"Excuse me, oh pardon me! Let me through," A sweetly soft voice and its owner melted through the crowds. Ootori Fuyuumi was looking for a certain 'Nakamura Kaiya' whom she was supposed to have an interview with. She then found the person she was looking for sitting in an empty table as she munched on more Pissaladière.

"Are you Nakamura Kaiya-san?" Fuyuumi asked, pulling a chair. This 'Kaiya' seemed like a nice girl, albeit shy and distant.

"Yeah. Oh, Kami! I forgot all about the interview," Kaiya glanced up from the French appetizer, her tone paranoid and anxious.

"Oh, it's alright, dear. I'm just glad I'm not with the scary sensei…" Kaiya nodded, thinking about how Ieda-sensei could be extremely frightening during debates…or interviews.

"Well, it all started with Kyouya – the youngest one. I'm not much of a lawyer but people say I have fierce opinions from time to time…" Fuyuumi told her, not bothering to hide her deep admiration for her younger brother.

"…I see."

"Father was a little bit skeptical at first, but look at business now!" She chuckled, gesturing to the famous lawyers roaming the halls, "I always knew Kyouya-kun could be trusted with the family business!"

"Nee-san," Speak of the devil.

"Ah, Kyouya-kun~! You're just in time." Fuyuumi then pulled her younger brother into a seat beside Kaiya's, "Have you met Kaiya-chan? She's full of wit and charm!"

Both Kyouya and Kaiya twitched. Kaiya, because they hadn't been talking for more than _five_ minutes and Kyouya, because he was _Kyouya_ and had the _right _to twitch.

"…I have, actually."

"Well, why didn't you tell me you have such an attractive _female_ friend?" Kaiya twitched again. This Fuyuumi was going a little _too_ far. But Kaiya _could_ relate a little bit, for her older sister back in Kyoto sometimes acted similarly.

"I wouldn't really consider her a _friend_, Nee-san."

"Cold, Kyouya, cold. _Brrr_."

**. . .**

"Mr. Ootori is such a nice man," Haruhi told the Devereux Academy of Law pupils and teacher. They were at the balcony for the after-forum party, sipping champagne and eating more hors d'oeuvres. Most lawyers were in the main ballroom, drinking and debating. Some of them were already drunk, but they still fought for the truth.

"He even raised my salary," she continued. Everybody knew Haruhi wasn't much of a talker, but she was _happy_ and being happy changed everything.

"I enjoyed some debates with Mr. Ootor's lawyer friends," Tsubasa added, taking a sip from the crystal glass.

"I'm glad you two are enjoying yourselves," Ieda-sensei told them. He wasn't drunk, per se, but he felt quite…buzzed. He even high-fived his students. Then he returned to his serious self, "Have you seen Nakamura? We're going in twenty minutes. Someone go find her."

Tsubasa volunteered, being the chivalrous guy he was. He then went downstairs in an attempt to find the ash brown-haired girl among the phalanx of lawyers.

**. . .**

She knew she shouldn't feel hurt because they were _never_ friends. The gap between them was filled with spikes and thorns and noxious gases that Kaiya knew they weren't _ever_ going to be friends. Yet, she felt as if someone attempted to strangle her only to find out that the person who tied the noose was herself.

Kaiya wandered hallways, trying to find evidence that proved she was a real person. She felt too much like a ghost sometimes. As if she haunted not only others, but also herself.

She then came upon a picture upon the wall; a picture from the Hosting times. The Hosts were cosplaying as soldiers in World War II. Kyouya Ootori was Adolf Hitler, complete with his signature mustache. Kaiya had to stop herself before she could die of laughter. How Suou Tamaki managed to dress him up that way, she'd never know. Perhaps they were _that_ close as friends.

The kind of close friendship Kaiya knew she wouldn't be able to have with Ootori Kyouya. So she let herself look at more pictures and wish she'd gotten the courage to visit the Host Club when she was a teenager instead of reading all the time.

"….Kaiya? What are you doing here?" It could not have been who she thought it was. She was probably just hallucinating under the influence of the champagne she drank earlier. Or maybe she was at home dreaming all this up. Maybe the forum never happened and maybe she would wake up in a mental institution.

That is, if reality was actually _kind_ to her.

Then the hallucination turned on the lights and Kaiya realized she was looking at the photos in utter darkness. She also realized that she wasn't in the hallway anymore. She was in some sort of study and the hallucination turned out to be the _real_ Ootori Kyouya.

"Ootori-san?"


	6. vi

**vi.**

She had always thought of him as one of those Fitzwilliam Darcy clones; that he was an untouchable demi-god statue made up of frozen poison. She had always wondered what would've happened if he felt all the rays of the sun; what would've happened if he decided to _love_ someone. Would he melt under the intense gaze of Sol, or would he fight until the end of this Armageddon? But all his icy Darcy-ness morphed into a demon worthy of rivaling Mr. Heathcliff once Ootori Kyouya's gaze fell on the photographs Kaiya was grasping in her cold hands.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? LET GO OF THE PHOTOS!" She had never imagined the Shadow King was capable of possessing such raw emotion. He always seemed to hide behind a mask; he, the perpetual paper face with paper smiles and paper feelings. But it seemed as if Kaiya tore the mask from his face, revealing to herself the true horrors of his naked soul. He was Erik and she was Christine and the Phantom of the Opera became more and more human as each second passed.

"I'm sorry, Ootori-san! I didn't mean t –" Then the mask began crumbling down onto the floor; spiraling into the depths of the abyss. The angels descended from their spheres in heaven. The demons inside them rose from the ground, ready to battle. Time froze. Time began. Time left. Time stayed. _They_ were time; they would go on and on forever. And Kaiya didn't even realize that _he _was kissing _her_ until she felt the pictures fall from her hands; the smooth, silky paper being replaced with too-cold and too-real once-paper hands.

He then let go – the mask rising to conceal his soul from reality once more. The paper face resurfaced from the betwixt and he was the Shadow King again. He became the cold, unfeeling Darcy that pretended he was above all mortals. And, like any Darcy (or Erik, or Heathcliff), he walked away too quickly.

**. . .**

"Nakamura-san, where _were_ you?" Tsubasa had found her wandering aimlessly in the hallways. He was always worried about her. It wasn't _his _fault, Tsubasa knew, that Kaiya didn't know just how intelligent and talented and _pretty_—

He stopped himself after the word 'pretty.' '_But_', the voice inside him said, '_she isn't ugly, either_.' Kaiya was like the younger sister he never had. Growing up in a foreign environment, he had always wished he had a younger sister he could protect. And then he met Kaiya, and the little family inside his head was perfect.

"…I got lost," she told him. It _was_ partly true. She did get lost in the huge mansion; then she got lost in Kyouya's—

_No_. That was probably just some crazy illusion. The_ real_ Ootori Kyouya would never have done that even if Tamaki had bribed him with one hundred million yen. The _real_ Kyouya would never have given in to his impulses. The _real _Kyouya was someone who knew where Kaiya's place was in this – _his_ – world. And it wasn't in his arms.

"But…didn't you hear me? I was shouting," He glanced at the void-eyed girl. In the dim light, her eyes were even darker. He never quite understood what color they were – almost like a dark purple-brown-red color; a flower that blooms only in complete darkness. His own green eyes were filled with too much concern.

"N-No, I didn't," Kaiya replied; her own voice was distant and sounded too far-away, "I'm sorry, Hideki-senpai…I feel a bit ill."

"I think you ate too much of those French onion tarts, eh," He tried to sound playful and light-hearted but the words came out dry and flat. There was something about her he couldn't place; as if there was a monster under her bed he could never slay because the being might kill him first. Tsubasa wouldn't let that happen. Kaiya was like his sister, and he'd die to protect her for all types of monsters; even the monsters that resided within herself.

"…Maybe," She shot him a weak smile as they got closer and closer to his car. Tsubasa and his chauffer offered to bring Ieda-sensei, Haruhi and Kaiya home. Ieda-sensei was probably mad as hell, Haruhi was probably fast asleep and both of them knew they were dead meat.

And no doubt, once they stepped in, Ieda-sensei began shouting at both of them, "I said twenty minutes! What time is it now!? 12:30 am! My wife would kill me!"

"I'm sorry, sensei…I got lost…"

He glared at her then nodded crossly. Ieda then mumbled something along the lines of, "I knew it was a mistake to have brought her…"

**. . .**

Whenever Kaiya felt incredibly strong emotions, she drank more coffee than usual. Her small apartment was already filled with sachets of instant coffee and her sink was filled with a myriad of cups of all different sizes. She had made lattes and espresso and she even bought coffee-flavored liqueur that she managed to down in less than an hour.

It was her way of detaching herself from reality. It didn't make her _feel _better, but drinking coffee managed to make her forget everything she wished to forget. At least for an hour or two.

The only logical reason for Kyouya to have done that was because he was drunk. And she was drunk. So they were both drunk; that's why they kissed. That was the only clear scientific explanation she had in her mind bank.

But Kaiya didn't know if lying to herself was the key to attaining her lost sanity.


	7. vii

**I apologize for the (extremely) late update; a lot of things have been going on lately…Also, this is more of a filler chapter.**

**. . .**

**vii.**

_He observed her. He liked observing her. He enjoyed watching her read; watching her flip pages, seeing those dark, dark, _dark _eyes getting lost in those words. It was almost _poetic_, really, how he watched her and how she watched him and how they don't see that they both watch each other. It was almost poetic, yes, but she wasn't Fujioka Haruhi, and therefore, she wasn't interesting enough to even have him think about her._

_Still, he enjoyed the moments when he could spot her reading or writing or just staring into space. He often arrived late in his Hosting duties because of her. Oh, how Tamaki reprimanded him so. But the girl…she was very different from everyone he'd met in life; someone whole and yet broken, fragmented. Someone he wanted to know more about. _

_And so, he devoted his time to getting to know her from afar. He spent his time watching her; analyzing her, but never talking to her. Oh, no; he never even tried to. He knew that if his father found out, Yoshio would get enraged about him thinking about a commoner whose father was merely a doctor in the company; almost like a servant. Yoshio couldn't have his son thinking about a quasi-servant's daughter. _

_He couldn't (wouldn't) tell people – not even _himself_ –why he watched her._

_And she wasn't Haruhi._

_And he knew this wasn't love._

**. . .**

When they were in college, it was easy for him to forget Nakamura Kaiya's existence. He knew he longed for Haruhi; he longed to crack the mystery that was her very being, but the strange pull towards Kaiya was a different matter altogether. He couldn't explain what he felt, but it was something…_else_. Something that made the tiger that prowled inside his ribcage shout louder; as if all his self-control would snap.

And snap it did.

Kyouya still did not know why he did it. Perhaps it was a sign of rebellion; just a thing he did to be able to escape the glass cage he was put in. Something that was done so that he could paint outside the frame his father had enclosed his world in. Maybe he kissed Kaiya because _Haruhi_ was his only true chance of redemption in the harsh, evil world of business and he wanted – _needed_ – to know if he still yearned to know more about the dark ash-haired girl he once liked to watch in high school.

Or maybe it was a different matter altogether.

**. . .**

"Fujioka-san, here are more papers for reviewing…" He handed her the manila envelope; one of his infamous smirks on his sharp, _perfect_ face.

"Ah, arigato, Ootori-senpai," His hand had softly brushed against hers, and she had to fight a blush. Haruhi knew this was extremely unbecoming of her, but the feelings she seemed to harbor for him were growing steadily as each day passed.

Haruhi then recalled the incident at the beach house back in the high school years, and until now, she still wondered _why_ he did such a thing. She felt as if she was on the verge of becoming a famous lawyer – therefore, a _rich_ one – and thought that maybe…_maybe_ he would reciprocate her own emotions.

"Son, come here for a moment. We need to talk," Yoshio then broke the trance-like state that the two young people were in. Haruhi went back to reading the files as Kyouya walked slowly, surely towards his Father.

"Yes, Father?"

"Kyouya," he told his son in a soft, hushed manner, "In a few years, you'll be inheriting the business when I retire…"

Kyouya nodded, unsure of what he was going to say, but he knew quite where this conversation was going to. His father had been bothering him to get a suitable wife since his twentieth birthday. Three years had passed and Yoshio turned restless and hell-bent on finding him a good spouse. It almost seemed as if he cared for Kyouya's well-being…

"Good, you understand," Yoshio then placed his cold, calloused hand on Kyouya's shoulder as a smirk appeared on his equally hardened and cold face, "And Haruhi…She seems very suitable."

**. . .**

"You grew up in Kyoto, huh?" The emerald-eyed third year asked her, in between bites of shrimp tempura.

'_It is not a date_,' Kaiya reassured herself. She and Tsubasa were just eating lunch in a local Japanese restaurant near the academy. She had forgotten her packed lunch when she realized she was almost late for school, and Tsubasa, being _everyone_'s knight in shining armor, decided he'd take her out to lunch.

"Yeah, the land of the geisha."

"Geisha, huh…"

"Yeah…My sister once wanted to be one, and then our parents got mad at her."

"…That's…_nice_."

"I just love how Kyoto is so unadulterated compared to Tokyo."

"The culture there must be really rich."

"…It is. The festivals are lively and interesting…not that I actually went to any of them."

"Why? I know you like history and mythology."

"I just don't like dressing up."

"….I think you'd look pretty in a kimono."

"…._What_?"

"Look, Nakamura-san," He set down his chopsticks, "I…I…_I_…never mind. You wouldn't understand, anyway."

"…"

He sighed, "Your ramen's going to get cold…"

"Just…tell me. Don't change the topic, Hideki-senpai."

"…Fine." His bright green orbs then bore into her winter darkness ones, "….Kaiya, I think I'm in _love_ with you."


	8. viii

**Really short chapter about Kyouya and Kaiya. Tsubasa and Haruhi will be the main stars of the next chapter, I promise.**

**. . .**

**viii.**

Silent screams echoed deep inside her skull as her head throbbed with the intensity of a myriad raw paper cuts. A cup of steaming coffee was nestled in her shaking hands. It was almost midnight – the numbers on her digital clock shone in blinding yellow – but Kaiya couldn't even _attempt_ to close her eyes. She had a lot to take in, and what could a jaded young girl do but drink more coffee? All her sorrows could drown in boiling black death and she didn't really give a damn. Kaiya found it easier if she just didn't care.

She was about to take a sip from her important cup o' Joe when someone began knocking on her door quite forcefully. Kaiya then dragged herself from underneath the covers to tell whoever the hell it was to _shut it_. She was just twenty-one and after all, no one told her that growing up meant all this pain. She was just a simple girl with a simple dream holding onto simple hope. And even though Kaiya never believed in fairy tales, she was willing to admit that she wished her life was like one – nothing complex, everything fine and fun and cliché and easier to digest.

As she put on most frightening glare, Kaiya opened her door. And what was once a half-attempted glare melted into a mask of utter confusion. Standing outside her apartment, soaking wet from the storm and looking like a freaking lost puppy at midnight was Ootori Kyouya.

"What are you looking like that at me for, Nakamura?" He asked in that burning metal tone of his, but something about him and his tone felt extremely off. His words didn't lash out and the ever-present smirk of his was placed into his pocket and then thrown away into some garbage can in some dirty alleyway.

"…N-Nothing…Sorry."

"Can you at least let me in? It's freezing out here," Without casting another glance at him, Kaiya moved backwards and let her senpai enter. Her home was a mess with coffee packets on every square inch of the flooring and old sappy romantic comedies littering the living room table. He didn't seem to mind as he plopped down (_without grace_, Kaiya observed) onto the sofa and looked at her as if he'd never seen another human being in his life.

"Ootori-san, what are you doing here?" She meant to sound curt and annoyed, but instead, her words became words of concern. Kaiya then subconsciously sat down beside him, still holding her coffee mug. He was so close she could hear his heart drumming painfully against his chest and he smelled like winter sunsets and sakura and loss and pain.

"…Because of father," He was still shivering from the cold; Kaiya was about to stand up to get him a towel or something when he pulled her back down. His arms then held onto her; as if he was afraid to let her go. Ootori Kyouya was _hugging_ her and it almost felt like complete and utter bliss until he murmured more words into her ear, "He's setting me up in an arranged marriage…with Haruhi."

Kaiya blinked. _Once_. _Twice_. She'd always thought he was head over heels for that brown-haired beauty. At least, she thought he _lusted_ for her. If you wanted someone that much, wouldn't you be glad to marry that person?

"…Are you high?" Kyouya flinched. He expected some _sympathy_ from Kaiya; from the girl he always observed, the girl who observed him. He wasn't expecting her to ask him if he was _doing drugs_.

"No," He snapped, releasing her from his hold, "_I'm getting married to Haruhi_." Kyouya needed to see some flame flicker inside her; to see if any emotions were felt. He needed to know if she was feeling the same pain he was feeling.

"Why are you telling me this?" Nakamura Kaiya felt the same – no, ten times the pain he felt, but she managed to hold onto her mask a bit longer than he was able to, "You long for Fujioka-san, and the money she'd bring in once she graduates law school." Even to her, it sounded forced.

"Why am I telling you this?" He chuckled darkly, and Kaiya thought she saw the devil in his eyes, "_Why_? Because I don't want to remain caged inside my father's world forever, even if it meant losing Haruhi."

"…But _why_ me? Why not Suou or your sister? Why _me_?" She was rambling now and her eyes were filled with tears waiting to crash down to the coffee-littered floor.

"Because…" All his words faded away as the mask fell to the ground once more. He shielded her, protected her, from the pitiful lies of reality and she showed him what freedom was. Ootori Kyouya was no longer a dollar sign and Nakamura Kaiya was no longer the sign for failure. Together, they became whole; someone else in their little fantasy fairy-tale world. They weren't just two people who brought the Apocalypse; they were two people in _love_.

And in the end, wasn't that what everyone yearned for, the feeling of being _real_?


	9. ix

**ix.**

The strong smell of coffee was the first thing that woke him up. His eyes slowly adjusted to the flood of sunlight that seemed to swallow everything in its way. This wasn't his home. His home was dark and alone and…more furnished. As he sat up, he noticed that a dark-haired girl was watching him, her eyes red and puffy – from lack of sleep or from tears, he didn't know.

"…Nakamura-san?" The words were waves crashing against the rocks; he was so very unsure of what had happened or what would happen. So Ootori Kyouya decided to just flow and ebb, follow the tides…

"You fell asleep on the couch," Her voice was hoarse, as if she was shouting at her own inner demons to go ahead and just kill themselves, "I thought it would be rude if I woke you up and sent you home…"

Reality then came crashing down, and his own memories were reaching the shore of his mind. He could almost taste freedom, but Kyouya knew his father would forever cage him inside their own little Wonderland. Too bad Ootori Kyouya had reached the looking-glass way too late.

"It's fine." Kyouya knew that she of all people could see through his many lies, "…Thank you, Kaiya."

**. . .**

"Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't _crying_, Hideki-senpai."

He had stopped her during their fifteen-minute break before class. Tsubasa had noticed her red eyes and her barely audible voice. A half-empty Starbucks cup was in her right hand and he just wondered why she didn't finish her coffee yet. He knew that Kaiya could drink coffee like a sailor could drink beer. Perhaps he was just being paranoid, but Hideki Tsubasa couldn't shake off the feeling that something not quite good had happened and he _wasn't there_ to scare the villains away.

"_Kaiya_. What happened?"

It had been easy to go back to their old friendship. Tsubasa knew that she didn't feel the same for him; she loved him, but she wasn't _in love_ with him. It was only now that he understood the difference. So he didn't push her anymore; he let her stray away from his grasp to go fawn over some old schoolmate of hers that they _both_ knew she couldn't have…But at the end of the day, Kaiya would always go back to him; her pillar of strength.

And she just hoped Hideki Tsubasa had enough strength for the two of them.

"He's getting married."

The bell rang twice, but Tsubasa refused to let her go, "…Ootori's getting _married_? To who?"

"…Fujioka."

**. . .**

_Malum in Se versus Malum Prohibitum_ was written on the board in some half-readable scrawl. Ieda-sensei had been explaining the difference of the two, and how sometimes, the difference could be hard to find. He was giving examples of the two when a familiar figure began knocking on the door.

"Ieda-san," The icily smooth voice of Ootori Kyouya echoed throughout the small classroom. Kaiya could already hear some of her female (_and male_) classmates sigh dreamily.

"May I please excuse Fujioka Haruhi from your class? Father said it was extremely important." Kyouya had entered the room; his gaze falling on Haruhi. Kaiya bit her pencil; the end had finally come and she was so sad she had lived to tell the tale.

"Of course, Ootori-san." Ieda nodded as he began writing in that awful handwriting of his. Haruhi then stood up, feeling their stares at the back of her head. She began walking towards the older man, and they instantly left as soon as the bell began ringing.

"Well, class, that's it for today. Essays are due Wednesday!"

**. . .**

"Cheer up, Kai-chan, it isn't the end of the world!" She shot a half-hearted glare at Tsubasa, who was digging into his banana split with much gusto. He had dragged her to some Western-style diner a few blocks away from her apartment; Tsubasa became obsessed with making her happy, or to at least die trying.

"…I suppose you're correct, Tsubasa-_kun_." He smirked at the use of his first name as he punched her playfully. A soft smile then graced Kaiya's face, "Thanks, Hideki-senpai."

"No problem," He didn't lie that he felt a little bit sad once she used his last name again, but her smile was priceless. He felt proud to know that Ootori wasn't the one who managed to make Nakamura Kaiya _smile_, "It's not so hard trying to be happy, right?"

"…Yeah." Kaiya didn't know if her smile was forced or not, but it felt…_refreshing_ to know that she was capable of feeling any sort of positive emotion towards any other human being.

**. . .**

"Ah, Haruhi, you must be wondering why Kyouya pulled you out of class," Yoshio sat beside her on the Ootori's (expensive) couch.

"Um…"

"Well, it's beca—Kyouya! You must come join us!" His son then sat down beside them, looking nervously perfect in his suit.

Haruhi fidgeted in her seat, anxious to get this over with. She still had to polish the essay for Ieda-sensei's class and promised to go meet up with Kaiya and Tsubasa in some diner to 'cheer Kaiya up.'

"You're here, Fujioka Haruhi-san, because I have considered you to be my son's new bride."

**. . .**

_This is what I have wanted for such a long time._

Haruhi was awake, drinking green tea and ignoring texts from the Host Club. She was sitting on her couch, pondering on what had just happened. Yoshio Ootori had planned all this from the beginning, she thought, and she was only a pawn in his game.

_I love him._

Yes, she loved Ootori Kyouya. Ranka would be happy, too, to know that they would never be 'commoners' ever again. But she felt so used and manipulated. Haruhi wished that Kyouya could've just proposed and not used his own father to marry her.

…_So why am I feeling so empty?_


	10. x

**Author's Note :** The final chapter in Israfel's Digitalis. Sorry for the delay. My muse finally rose from the dead.

Before you read this chapter, let me first mention that this story is not, in any way, driven by plot. This tale does not even _have _a plot. This _character-driven story_ is all about a girl's infatuation for someone she could never have and the lengths she would go to give him up.

This story is written for those who believe loving someone may as well be the end of the world.

**x.**

_Holy angel's tears streaked her butterfly soul in a thousand shades of silver sunrise. Gossamer wings were wrapped around her like a chrysalis, and a jeweled crown sat on her head. Her pale face was hidden beneath a dream-catcher veil; she was far too shy to smile at anyone tonight. He, too, looked regal in ebony silk; like dark waves tossed on pearly sand. They stood before a shrine, faces pink from giddy excitement, ready for politics. This, after all, couldn't be love. _

_The girl then turned around, her face a million shades of happiness. Her eyes were lighter than the usual darkness they were, and her skin seemed more than the crumbling wallpaper that reeked of coffee. But she didn't smile… No, she never could, but this was the closest thing to euphoria she ever had tasted. And this wasn't love, but it felt like it. _

_And she felt like running, away from everything and away from him. She just couldn't stay. But her feet were glued to the marble floor that was a thousand times more expensive than she would ever be. When the cherubs started singing, all she could hear was words of doubt from everyone around her. But she tried to let go and let her soul take flight. A grin broke through her façade and reality came crashing down._

_This wasn't love, even if she knew it _had _to be._

**. . .**

"Nakamura-san! NAKAMURA-SAN!" '_No, don't wake me up_.' She wanted to dream, because in dreaming, not even she was deemed to be a failure. It was her only escape and it provided a more stable mind than coffee did. _'No, not again. Leave me alone.' _Her eyes then fluttered open and the dream disappeared, leaving her soul in the void.

"You can't avoid this day, you know." Tsubasa's voice echoed inside her skull. He had kept on telling her, in hopes of her 'facing her insecurities.' Nakamura Kaiya scowled. She had always fled when trouble came close, so why couldn't she run away now? She knew the infatuation would fade over time, but time moved so slowly…

The dark-haired girl then propped herself with her elbow, sighing tiredly as she glanced around. Silk and lace clothed geisha-beautiful women and they all giggled sheepishly, faces tinted rouge and lips pale and shaking. She knew this day would come, but in between running away from her problems, studying and drinking coffee, time wasn't so important anymore. Kaiya just hoped that time would be nice to her today and would leave her behind.

"Ahh…Nakamura-chan," It was Fuyuumi. She was clad in a dove-grey kimono, almost as if columbine feathers were growing from her skin. She looked regal, and Kaiya looked like a mess, "Why aren't you dressed! The wedding's about to start! Hurry up!"

She winced at the word 'wedding,' but she quickly forced herself to grow numb as the sole Ootori female shoved her into the dressing room with similarly-colored garb. Minutes later, she was done dressing up. Finishing the obi, Kaiya exited the room and ran towards the other girls.

As the guests surrounded the radiant couple, the ceremony began. Traditional Japanese music played and they all wished for luck from the gods. They looked so happy; Haruhi and Kyouya. But no longer did she feel envious. She felt nothing now. It was finally the end. It was time to cut the strings, time to let go, time to forget, time to burn the purple roses. She did not want to do this one bit, but if she finally believed that the infatuation would end…perhaps, perhaps it would.

**. . .**

Between bites of Ootoro and sips of green tea, Ootori Haruhi (she herself even said it aloud just to feel how it was like to be married) pondered about her life. She now had a supernova-bright future ahead of her. She had the one and she had the job. As she moved table to table smiling for photographs, she felt like a marionette. Haruhi couldn't decide if it was a positive or a negative feeling, but it felt…odd. As if the puzzle pieces won't fit and the picture wouldn't form. There was still a piece missing, and she didn't know what it was and where to look for it.

Everything and everyone around her was moving far too quickly and it was as if she could never touch the replay button in her life. Everything was too fast, too unfair. But she was beyond pretending to be unhappy. So she grinned wider in the pictures, hugged her guests tighter and held onto the string that kept her with Kyouya.

She, after all, only hid her feelings of pure ecstasy because she cared about Kaiya. But now that she knew Kaiya would finally let go of the object of her affections, there was no use in lying to herself. She did not want to let Kaiya – her best friend – down so harshly, but if she let the sadness end and the happiness begin, perhaps…perhaps Haruhi, too, would learn how to let go.

**. . .**

As the ceremony ended, realization dawned on the great Ootori Kyouya. He was married now. Married to the person he thought he loved. He could have everything in the world now. His father's business, more money, more property. That was his dream, and now he was able to catch it between his ivory fingers.

At the after-ceremony tea, faces blurred and passed him. They all gave him his thanks, and he put on that perfect son façade once more. He decided it would be the last time to wear the mask, before he would finally throw it away. He did not need to pretend anymore. He, after all, pretended only for her. For the girl he had watched, for the girl he never knew he had loved.

Ootori Kyouya only wore that mask so that he could play god for her, and now that he let her slip between his fingers…it was time to cut the red thread that bound her to him, time to pry her away from his hold, time to erase her from his mind, time to burn the mask. He did not want to do this one bit, but if he forced himself to believe that the infatuation would end…perhaps, perhaps it would.


End file.
